The Evil of An Age (or Iapetus Among the Khoskysians)
by SouthronDeember
Summary: A story modeled on Greek myth with heroes and villains of my own making. Set 20 years after the Trojan War, it recounts the first adventure of Iapetus of Thespiae and his companions. Meant to be one Book out of several. Please comment.


6

**Book I - The Evil of an Age (or Iapetus Among the Khoskysians)  
**

At the beginning, Kronos the father was slain by Zeus the son. From the lifeblood of Kronos were spawned all manner of creatures, beasts, monsters and half-breeds. As Kronos craved power, so these malcreations were desirous of remaining the first and greatest among all those born of the minds of the gods. The very greed that made Kronos devour his progeny led many of these beings into darkness, ensorcelled by their hatred of all things more beloved of the gods than themselves.

In time, the gods also created humans from the dust. These beings, being in form and likeness as the gods, held the affection of those beings and were esteemed higher than all the beasts of the blood of Kronos. The humans returned this affection with veneration and sought the favor of the gods on the highest mountains. In so doing, they drove all beasts from the high places, from the sight of the gods. The creatures fled into the deep places of the earth and the farthest edges of civilization.

The great heroes of men, Oedipus, Achilles, Orpheus, Jason, Odysseus and many others faced these fearsome beasts and slew some of the most mighty, but ever did the creatures nurse their hate, biding their time and gathering in greater numbers against the day when they would break forth from the depths in a tide of blood, fire and destruction, forever to drown the world of men.

Having been shown evil by the dark hearts of the beasts of Kronos, man warred against man, brother killing brother, as humans began to covet the possessions of others. Because of this, Thebes burned and Troy burned. Achilles was consumed by pride, Agamemnon by lust, Oedipus by rage. Evil men filled the world. Good men became scarce. Villains abounded. Heroes disappeared.

In those days, a score of years after the death of Hector, tamer of horses, a man rose in Achaea. His name was Iapetus son of Auletes of Thespiae. Now Auletes was one of the last good Achaeans who warred before the walls of Ilium, a comrade of Ajax, fearless and mighty. At the birth of his son, a blind seeress, the Sibyl of Phocis, foretold that in his time, Iapetus of Thespiae would own greater fame than Achilles. He would lead the greatest heroes of his age, as Jason did before him, to the edge of the world, into Death's maw. But alas, the name of Iapetus would not outlive his grandchildren. The march of time would erase even the slightest trace of his memory and the deeds of Iapetus would be lost even as he yet lived.

As he grew, Iapetus was told nothing of his fate. He grew in stature and learned the way of the spear and the sword from his father Auletes. His skill was unrivaled, but ever did Iapetus allow himself to be outshone by the warriors of Thespiae. He sought not only the strength of his arm, but the strength of his mind. He became the most cunning warrior, skillful and quick to strike, and Antaeus son of Proteus, his boon companion, became the strongest of all the young men of Thespiae.

In their twenty first year, Iapetus and Anteus began to range far afield, testing their mettle in battle with evil men and beasts. In the first summer after their ranging began, the pair reached the slopes of Mount Khoskysis. The Khoskysians were a strange people, said to be the offspring of a union of man and beast. The temper of their hearts gave credence to this, as there was never a race of men more intent upon themselves, nor quicker given to violence. Under the leadership of their king, Crixus, the Khoskysians raided far and wide, north to the waters of the Danubis and as far south as Thessaly. Their desire was for women and for things that shone in the sunlight. Although covetous, they were not cunning as was Iapetus.

When the young men entered the palace of Crixus, they were offered guest gifts of food and drink. They feasted with the Khoskysians and made merry with music and dancing. Now among the women of the Khoskysians, there was a daughter of Sparta, Chrysanthia by name. She was graceful and beauteous, lowering her eyes and catching her breath at the sight of Iapetus, such was his youthful vigor and the handsomeness of his visage.

As the feast wound on into the depths of the night and the Khoskysians sank deeper into their cups, Chrysanthia drew close to the Son of Auletes and spoke thus:

"Man of Thebes, warrior of Achaea, you bear your head proudly, as one with integrity and honor. If you truly be the man I think you are, listen now to my plight and be not long in aiding me."

Iapetus, taken with the beauty of Chrysanthia and so affected as to be without speech, nodded, beseeching her with a look to continue. She brightened with a smile, which to Iapetus was as the sun cresting the horizon on the morning after a storm.

"Long have I languished here, a prisoner and slave at the hands of these hateful men. As deeply as you can love, so deep can these men despise. No day has dawned in these fifteen years that has brought me joy, which has soothed my weary heart. I fear that I shall spend my life here, withering as a plant without the sun, diminishing with the lack of radiance to make me grow. Now son of Auletes, I beseech you, if you would but take me from this place, I will offer you anything that it is within my power to give. If you refuse, your words are as the whisper of Death, carrying my name on the wind."

With this, the lady shed tears and the heart of Iapetus was wrenched in his chest, in agony for this most beautiful and delicate creature. At once, he desired nothing but to answer her wishes.

"Good lady, I am grieved for you in the depths of my being and the tears upon your cheek will soon burn upon my own with equal intensity. If any part of what you say is true, then the gods are fickle and these men are great animals, indeed fouler than any I have met, to treat you so. I would not have you mired in sorrow, your countenance dire and your soul without hope. Upon my honor and the honor of my father I will see you freed. I bid you tell me your name, that I might entreat king Crixus to release you to my care."

At this the fair lady once again brightened, taking in the kind words as a man in the desert takes in water, even a few paltry drops being as a grace from the gods. In her newfound joy, she offered him the name of Chrysanthia and bade him make haste.

He swore that he would not fail and at first opportunity upon the morrow he met with Crixus of the Khoskysians. He made clear his purpose and besought the king to grant his request to free Chrysanthia, ere she withered and wilted as a dying flower.

"For if you deny this, mighty Crixus, then I fear that she will die of heartbreak, and perhaps a part of me will perish with her."

Now Crixus coveted Chrysanthia, jealously guarding her and allowing no man near to her, for fear that some other man would steal her away with honeyed words, or a stronger arm. He saw that Iapetus would not be swayed from his mission. Crixus knew the power of the Son of Auletes and of his boon companion Antaeus and felt no compunction to contest the ownership of the girl with spears, yet he was not interested in losing her. As he sat upon his high throne, the Son of Auletes shining before him in the righteousness of his quest, evil Crixus hit upon a scheme and he spoke thusly:

"Great warrior of Thespiae, you ask much of me, for the girl is beautiful and her capture was a costly venture in terms of blood. Yet, you are a worthy man and I would grant your request, but first, you must bring me something suitable in exchange."

Iapetus of Thespiae swore by all the gods that he would bring to Crixus whatever he asked, if only he would promise to free the girl Chrysanthia. Thus did Crixus swear, believing in his vile heart that the quest he would now set before Iapetus could not have been prosecuted by even the great Heracles himself.

"Son of Iapetus, in return for my magnanimity, I ask only one thing. You must bring me the most radiant of all things, the most valuable, the most splendid, whether in the heavens or upon the earth. Only with such a thing in my possession could I allow myself to be parted from Chrysanthia."

Brave and able though he was, the Son of Auletes knew that such a thing was impossible. He sat long upon the slopes of Mount Khoskysis, pondering upon what he could bring to Crixus. His companion Antaeus often sat with him, naming the many things in the world, the things above it and the things below it. None seemed a fitting answer.

For two weeks did Iapetus ponder on the slopes of Khoskysis, without seeming any nearer his goal at the end than at the beginning. In such a state was he when upon the mount there came a traveler. A man mighty of arm and strong of back, his great beard flowing across his broad chest, he came riding upon a chariot. A great bow of yew lay unstrung at his side and as he approached the rock which Iapetus claimed as a seat, the wheel of his chariot caught on a stone and was sundered. The man stepped from his conveyance and cursed loudly at the gods for his misfortune, wakening Iapetus from his thoughts.

"The Rock broke your chariot, not the gods. Perhaps it should be the object of your ire and the receptor of your words. In any case, it is only a small break, easily fixed. I would mend it for you if you are willing."

The man gave Iapetus an appraising eye and nodded his assent. The Son of Auletes set quickly to work and with skill and cunning, mended the wheel of the chariot. Seeing this, Nicanor (for that was his name) gave a great laugh from his belly.

"In all of Thrace, the land of my people, never before have I seen one so skilled. You bend the wood and metal to your will as if it were clay. Your movement is sure and strong, measured for best effect. Your body belies its warrior spirit. What purpose, I ask you, does a man such as you have to sit upon this mountainside in idleness?"

Then Iapetus told Nicanor of Thrace of the plight of Chrysanthia and of the impossible task given him by Crixus of the Khoskysians. Nicanor listened to all gravely, his face showing a great depth of thought and wisdom. When all was told, he spoke thusly:

"Son of Auletes, I possess the object of your desires and I shall give it to you, if you would but do me one last favor."

To this Iapetus readily agreed and so Nicanor brought forth his great bow of yew, unstrung. He put it at the feet of Iapetus and left there also a string.

"This bow has never been strung. A gift from Zeus to guide my path, I was told that the one who could bend its great length and conquer its recalcitrance would render it ever after to be as supple as silk, yet filled with all the strength of Heracles himself. To this man will I bind myself as a brother, comingling our blood, sharing bowl and food, water and blanket, joy and hardship, standing at his back as he stands at mine, that the world might never overtake us. I believe you to be that man, Son of Auletes. I pray you prove me correct by bending the bow. Only then will I give you the object of your quest."

Iapetus put hand to the shaft of yew and vied with all of his strength to bend it to his will. Yet it resisted him. He envisioned the honor of his father and swore by it that he would not fail. He envisioned the riches of Thespiae and swore by it that he would not fail. He envisioned the beauty of Achaea and swore by it that he would not fail. All of this and more passed before his mind's eye and yet none of it prevailed him over the bow. At last he cast it to the earth, the anguish of defeat and failure upon him.

"Alas, that all the hopes of fair Chrysanthia should rest upon my frail shoulders. That I should be defeated by a mere stick of wood is too much to bear. The great love nursed in her heart like a dying flame will perish at my admission. Good Nicanor, I cannot do what you ask. I pray you show mercy, for the sake of Chrysanthia. "

Long did Nicanor wait, while the Son of Auletes stood before him, breathing heavily. At long last, he spoke.

"Of the answer you yourself have spoken. A tale I will offer you, and then perhaps you will understand. Before the sacking of Ilium, there lived a man in the land of Thrace. A woman he wanted lived nearby, and so with spear and shield, he betook himself to her home, slew her husband and carried her away to be with him. Many sons did he have by other women, but this one he desired above all others, because of the pride of her bearing and the content of her character and the beauty of her face. For many nights he urged her to lie with him, as he was one who truly loved her, but she refused him, calling him liar and fool. For three years this continued, his honor not allowing him to take her by force and her answers always the same, that he was a liar and a fool. The man asked if love of her dead husband caused her to act so. She denied it, citing that he was much the same man as he who now stood before her. He asked if he were not comely enough for her. She denied it, saying that he was no Adonis, but certainly handsome in a certain manner. What then, he questioned her, kept her from entering his bed?"

The Son of Auletes screwed up his face at the query. Having no answer, he besought Nicanor to continue. This the man of Thrace did.

"The woman recounted to the man her history, how her father had let her choose a husband for herself, one who was kind to her and who saw to her needs, such as they were and who loved her as life itself. To this man only had she given herself. This man died at the end of Lydian spears and so she was taken by those men, and they died and she was taken by others, and on and on to the number of seventeen husbands, but only to one had she given herself. This man, she said, had done the one thing she had needed."

Iapetus frowned, understanding growing in his mind. Nicanor smiled as the Son of Auletes puzzled. At last he raised his eyes. Nicanor questioned him.

"What was the thing her first husband did for her, Son of Auletes?"

Iapetus spent one more moment in thought and then spoke thusly:

"Good Nicanor, he unfettered her soul."

At this, Nicanor of Thrace laughed once more from his belly.

"Now Iapetus, Son of Auletes of Thespiae, what made this first husband do such a thing? With such a thing in your mind's eye, once more betake yourself to the shaft of yew and bend you my bow."

And so Iapetus took up the shaft of yew and envisioned all the love that one human could have for another and swore by it that he would not fail. He strained with all of his might and at last the mighty shaft gave beneath his arms and he strung the bow and offered the weapon back to Nicanor. He spoke thusly:

"Now good Nicanor, I have my answer. I beseech you to bind yourself to me, and to my companion Antaeus, and then to come with me to the palace of Crixus and see Chrysanthia freed."

And so, Iapetus of Thespiae and Nicanor of Thrace bound themselves together as brothers, swearing from that day forth to be the shield for the other, a firm place to stand in a world of shifting ground. To Antaeus of Thespiae did Nicanor bind himself also, and the three journeyed down the slopes of Mount Khoskysis. The Son of Auletes went straight away to Chrysanthia and spoke thusly:

"Fair lady, a quest I was given to ensure your freedom and such a quest have I completed. Come with me now to the throne of Crixus, so that your new life may begin in earnest."

At this, Chrysanthia bloomed as a tree in spring, her heart filled with the blessing and the promise of her soul's desire. Color returned to her features and a spring to her step and no more was the world a thing cold and gray in her eyes. The savior of her life, Iapetus of Thespiae, to her grew more and more to her liking with each passing moment.

In this state did they pass into the presence of Crixus. The vile cretin glowered at the Son of Auletes from his throne, enraged indeed that the young man may have completed his impossible task. He questioned Iapetus and bid him speak quickly. In response, Iapetus spoke thusly:

"Great Crixus, you commanded that I bring you the most radiant thing in all creation, the most valuable and the most splendid. This I have done, for before you now stands a soul unfettered and full of love. This, great Crixus, is the most radiant and splendid thing in all creation."

Crixus smiled viciously. The Son of Auletes believed him beaten, but such was not the case. Thus did he speak:

"Strong Iapetus, you have indeed brought the most splendid and radiant thing in the cosmos upon which I now rest my eyes. You did such a thing to free beautiful Chrysanthia. Alas, in your completion of this quest, you have spelled her undoing. The thing which you were to bring me was to be my possession. As such, Chrysanthia is mine, now and forevermore."

With these words, the king laughed in the face of the Son of Auletes. Within Iapetus, rage burned and in such words did he give it vent:

"You are a vile, slimy creature, Crixus. You are the least of all the beasts which crawls with its belly upon the earth. Your thoughts are curses and your words are poison. You are true to no man. Would that the gods might destroy you for your treachery. As they are silent, I shall take justice in hand and with it smite your foul stain from this earth!"

With these strong oaths, Iapetus drew his sword and cut down Crixus, king of the Khoskysians, upon his own throne. The guards of Crixus leapt to their king's revenge, only to be met with the spear of Antaeus and the arrows of Nicanor. In their tens and their hundreds did they die at the hands of the Three of Thespiae. Iapetus slew Argentarius, the brother of Crixus, with his ash spear and the stones drank the blood of his twelve sons as well, all from the hand of Iapetus, Son of Auletes. Antaeus smote down Mnemetes, the captain of the guard, splitting his helm with one blow. With his great bow of yew did Nicanor rain death upon the Khoskysians, Apollo being no greater in his skill than the Thracian. The flower of Khoskysian manhood leaked out their lifeblood upon the steps of the palace of Crixus, all to pay for the treachery of their king. In a horde they came and in a horde they died.

When at last the streets grew silent and sun fell low, Iapetus knew that the bloodletting was done. The detritus of war lay thick about him and the viscera of the dead covered him as a second skin, but Iapetus truly was the son of his father and no fatal wound had he been struck. So too did his brothers, Antaeus and Nicanor fare well in the struggle.

Bile filled the mouth of Iapetus because of the foul deed forced upon him by Crixus, and he, taking fair Chrysanthia with him, led his fellows from that place, leaving the Khoskysians to sort out their own mess.


End file.
